Harry Potter and the Phantom of Hogwarts
by Faykan
Summary: Everything in the Magical world enchanted Hermione Jean Granger, and she fell in love with it immediatly. But when two of her loves, Harry James Potter, and her mysterious Angel of Music, start to clash, she has no idea whom she should choose...
1. Prologue

**Harry Potter **

**And **

**The Phantom of Hogwarts**

**Prologue**

**October 31****st**** 1986**

Severus Snape scowled as he appeared on the disgustingly clean street of Privet Drive. He greatly resented Albus Dumbledore for forcing him to leave on the night of the Halloween feast to simply 'check up' on James Potter's little brat of a son. But, Severus had sworn to protect the boy, and therefore had no choice but to obey the aged Headmaster in this request, so here he was, walking dutifully, yet resentfully, toward the door of the fourth home on the street.

The house in question was currently the center of activity this Halloween night, with many of the residents of the street filtering in and out with what appeared, to Severus, to be festivities of some sort.

Desiring to make an unobtrusive entrance and exit without dealing with muggles, Severus disillusioned himself before sneaking into the house between several party-goers who were crowding the entryway. If Severus had disliked the street, he was utterly disgusted with the inside of number four. The house was the picture perfect concept of clean, everything in exactly the perfect place, neatly decorated for the holiday. 'Just the perfect place for the future prince of Gryffindor to reside,' Severus thought nastily.

But… as Severus looked about, he felt something was greatly amiss. There were no pictures of the Potter brat anywhere, nor any sign of the ragged mop of black hair that any child of James would be doomed to possess. Trying to rationalize this, Severus noticed a huge whale of a man, chuckling and talking with several of his guests, motion for them to follow and walked away, towards the back of the house.

Senses alert, Severus followed the small crowd of men as they entered a back room and descended to the basement level of the house. Flicking on the single flickering bulb, the walrus of a man addressed his friends. "Well, me and Petunia decided that it would be more appropriate if it was contained down here for the party, as it would be far too much in the way in it normal place." The rest of the men chuckled, and Severus sidled off to the side of the room, finally seeing around the group of men to the far side of the basement.

A large iron cage stood there, with straw strew haphazardly through the interior. And within knelt a small figure, a small burlap sack covering the child's face. 'Some sort of Halloween trickery?' Severus thought, confused. The child seemed to be idly playing with some sort of stuffed monkey, dressed in, what Severus realized, miniature wizarding robes, complete with hat and wand.

The beefy man strode up to the cage, and turning a heavy iron key in the lock, waddled inside. The child took no notice, enthralled by the toy until the man knocked it from the child's hands. Laughing wickedly, the fat man started ruthlessly beating the small figure, who tried to curl into a protective sphere and crawl away, but the larger man held him fast, striking him repeatedly with fists and feet. Finally, with a crashing blow, the child was sent hurling into the iron bars of the cage, and the portly man grabbed the small child by the oversized dirty clothing, wrenching the child into a standing position, and thrusting the figure into the bars toward Severus and the laughing crowd.

Ripping off the burlap sack, the vile man chortled "Look at the Devil's child!"

The group of men's laughter increased, some bold enough to spit or throw their drinks at the small boy. Severus internally cringed. It was Potter alright, but Severus didn't expect the boy's face to be half burned, leaving only a hideous scar across the entire right side of his head. Potter clutched desperately at the sack when his abusive uncle threw him away, drawing it back over his face the second he could.

Vernon Dursley, Severus recognized him now, bent over to pick up the cups and other objects that had been thrown at his nephew as the crowd dispersed, leaving Potter, his uncle and Severus in the room. Severus was planning on waiting until the boy was alone, but didn't get the chance as Potter suddenly leapt; catching his uncle around the throat with a old piece of rope that presumable had been used to tie the boy.

Vernon turned purple, trying to thrash and twist, struggling to pry the boy from him, but his bulk prevented him from reaching, and his position on the floor stopped him from moving too far. Potter pulled, not releasing when his uncle turned a deathly shade of magenta, and collapsed to the floor, strangled to death.

Severus waited not a moment longer. If Petunia, or any of the other guests came to check on Vernon, they would kill the boy immediately for murder, not caring that it was self defense. Severus revealed himself, startling Potter, and opened the door of the cage with his wand. "Come with me if you want to live," Severus said urgently.

The boy was quick, seizing the toy monkey with one hand, and obediently taking Severus' with his other. Severus could hear voices approaching, and thought of the only place he could hide the boy, apparating them away just a Petunia rounded the corner and screamed at the sight of her dead husband. As the darkness of apparition took the pair of them, Severus' mind reeled. Where or how could he keep the boy hidden at Hogwarts, especially from the eyes of the hundreds of students and teachers?

It was obvious; the deepest parts of the dungeons lay far below the rest of the school, and were virtually deserted, as no rooms down there were used. He would secret the boy down in the depths of the school, and pray to whatever deity would listen that the boy could grow up safely.

When they landed, Severus took the boy in his arms, as the child was still very weak, and sprinted to the castle, almost flying with the way his cloak billowed. Down into the darkness of the dungeons, formerly his own domain, he set the boy down in a deserted classroom, transfiguring and conjuring anything the boy could need for comfort. Finally he turned to the boy himself, who was shivering with the cold and fear of what had just happened.

"Shh, it's alright," Severus reassured, "You're going to be alright." The beating had not been too terrible on the boy's body, Severus observed. He had clearly seen worse at the hand of his relatives. Pointing his wand, he changed the rags on the child into decent clothing, and held a hand out for the sack. Potter stared at him through the holes cut in the burlap, confused. "Give me the sack please; I will change it to something easier to wear if you desire to conceal yourself…"

Slowly, far too slowly for Severus' liking, the boy removed the cloth, covering his face with a hand as he handed the bag off to Severus. Waving his wand once, Severus transfigured the sake into a white mask, just large enough to cover the right portion of the face, while leaving the rest open to the world. Taking it back, Potter placed it on his burned face, and the covering morphed to fit his features perfectly, imitating the skin that should have been present.

"I must go, but I will return to bring you some food, and things to occupy yourself." Severus said softly, before standing to return to the feast.

"Thank you," the voice was so small that Severus barely heard it. His heart melted at the lack of trust that burned in the small words, "Your welcome child."


	2. Chapter 1

**Well, here it is, the last chapter of Phantom of Hogwarts posted before my birthday, Oct 11th, and I feel much better with the new beginning prologue to be able to merge this chapter better. I know its rather short, but I'm still working on getting events plotted out as well as character perspectives. I do expect the chapters to get longer over time, but that this story will still be shorter overall then my others... Just the nature of the paticular way I envisioned this story I presume... Anyway, birthday presents include FanArt on my deviant account and lots of review, so please do one, the other, or both please! Happy Writers = more chapters = Happy Readers after all... anyway Enjoy!**

**Chapter One**

**The Fateful First Meeting**

**September 1****st****, 1991**

Hermione Jean Granger exited the small rowboats with the rest of the newest first year students of Hogwarts, walking up the stone steps to the doors of the huge castle of Hogwarts. They all struggled to keep up with Hagrid, the Gamekeeper, but the huge man's strides were too much for them.

"Everyone here?" Hagrid asked, looking around, before looking at a small round faced blond boy that Hermione knew as Neville, "You there, still got yer toad?" the boy nodded hesitantly, and Hagrid turned to knock on the large door three booming times.

The door swung open immediately, revealing a tall, black haired witch in emerald green robes standing behind it. She had a very stern face and Hermione knew instinctive that she was not one to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said proudly.

"Thank you Hagrid, I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Hermione's house in it, she thought. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to

the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Hermione could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right, the rest of the school must already be here, but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall.

They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. Another boy was already waiting for them there, rather thin and short, with bright hazel eyes and a thick mop of black hair that seemed to do whatever it pleased. Hermione realized with a gasp that this must be the famous Harry Potter.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall, ignoring the other boy and facing the crowd of first years. "The start of term feast will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

She continued, explain each house: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, while emphasizing the point of not breaking rules, and the house point system. Hermione thought it was a brilliant way to keep them in line and reward those who really wanted to learn. She glanced at Harry potter again, standing slightly behind Professor McGonagall. He was leaning casually against a wall, not taking in a word she said, but looking over all the first years with a frown. His eyes lingered longer on her than anyone, she thought.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school," Professor McGonagall continued. " I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on a red haired boy with a smudged nose.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Draco almost laughed when the youngest Weasley asked stupidly if they were going to have to wrestle trolls for the 'test' to get sorted. He was thankfully interrupted when the Hogwarts ghost came gliding through the room, speaking about someone named Peeves and whether or not he deserved a second chance for something, Draco did not really pay attention. He was more focused on Harry Potter, the only student who had not jumped at the sight of the ghosts.

"Well, hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the ghost of a fat old monk, "and don't let the Phantom catch you," he added cheerily as the group of them floated away. The other first years whispered among themselves, wondering who or what the 'phantom' was that the ghost referred to. Draco did not personally care, he was plotting the best way to make acquaintances with the great Harry Potter, but finally felt that the direct approach was the best bet.

Stepping forward, Crabbe and Goyle immediate lurched to his sides, as the meaty bodyguards they were. Holding out his hand to the black haired boy, Draco said coolly, "So, it's true, isn't it, the great Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts…" Potter just glanced at the hand, then up at Draco and to the other two boys at either side of him.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," he said, glancing at the pair of them as well, before returning to Potter, "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

The redheaded Weasley behind them gave a small snigger poorly disguised as a cough, but Draco ignored him, focusing intently on the cold expression on Potter's face.

The other boy still didn't take his hand, "And?" he asked coldly, "am I supposed to be impressed?"

Draco flushed slightly, but before he could retort, Professor McGonagall returned, rapping him on the shoulder with a large roll of parchment, "Move along now," she said in her sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Potter was first to act, falling behind the old witch and heading the now forming double lines into the Great Hall. Draco scowled slightly before following the group, Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Albus Dumbledore watched with amiable interest as the newest batch of first year students were sorted. Overall not the best and brightest bunch, but with scattered gems here and there, Albus mused, from what was told to him by teachers who had guided the muggleborn Hermione Granger, as well as his knowledge of the presence of the final son of the Weasley family. Then there were several children of the Death Eaters among the newest body, Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle namely, but Albus wasn't worried of an attack from these children. And of course, Albus leaned in a bit as the boy was called forward to be sorted, Harry Potter, the crowning jewel of this year, their savior from the Dark Lord.

Albus would have had a running bet with Severus as to the house that young Harry would enter, Albus selecting none other than Gryffindor, and Severus claiming that Albus would be greatly surprised, but not selecting another specific house. Sadly none of the other teachers were willing to participate.

Now, they watched as the hat was lowered onto the boy's head. There was several seconds of utter silence as the entire Great Hall held its breath in anticipation. Then the hat reared up and cried.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Albus was thunderstruck, and apparently so was the majority of the hall as well. Harry Potter, the defeater of Voldemort, a Slytherin? It was completely unexpected. Then the noise started. Whispered and murmuring from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and loud boos and hisses from Gryffindor. The rest of the Slytherins sat in stunned silence, even as a bored looking Harry joined them at their table, sitting between Malfoy and Zabini, after the Italian was sorted into the same house.

After his short quip before summoning the feast, Albus continued to watch the young Potter. Thankfully he seemed to not be taken in with the other students around him, as he was outright refusing to associate with his peers, and the other students were starting to ignore him in return. There was hope yet, Albus mused, as the boy clearly made it into Slytherin because of the skills he was forced to assume from living with his relatives.

Albus smiled genuinely as he dismissed the students to prepare for their first week of classes. This potential setback was easily overcome, especially if Albus was correct in his assumption about the Voldemort coming for the Stone he had hidden down the third floor.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Hermione never saw any of the Slytherin students outside of meals and hallways until the end of that week, in the first Gryffindor Slytherin double potions lesson. Hermione made sure she was early, not for anyone's benefit, but because she heard that Professor Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin was a brutal teacher and didn't stand for tardiness.

To her surprise, all the Slytherins were already present, sitting on the far side of the room in small groups. All, except for Harry Potter, who was sitting all alone somewhere in the middle of the room, well away from the rest of his house, but not close enough for the rest of the Gryffindors filing in behind Hermione to feel intimidated by as they sat as far from the Slytherins as possible. Hermione shocked quite a few of them, then, by striding directly to the black haired boy, ignoring the vacant seats next to her housemates and their whispered urgings to sit with the pack.

"Hello," she said brightly to Harry, "Is this seat taken?" she added, indicating the seat next to him, connected by the two person desk.

He looked at her, the hazel eyes narrowed and calculating, but slowly they softened somewhat, "No, you are welcome to sit here if you wish," he said in a quiet, rather timid voice.

"Thank you," Hermione responded, taking her seat just as the bell rang and Professor Snape swept into the room.

Like most of the other teachers had that week, Professor Snape took roll the beginning of class before proceeding with their first lesson. Hermione noticed that he did not give any pause or notice that Harry was in his class, but treated him like any other student. She felt that this was probably explained by either that the Potions Master being Harry's Head of House or some other act of mercy that she saw that the black haired boy greatly appreciated, with the tiny smile on his face.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," Professor Snape began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word, like Professor McGonagall, whom Hermione had had earlier, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death… if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed the short speech. Hermione leaned forward in her seat, eager to start with how interesting and challenging the class seemed from Professor Snape's description. The Professor spent the next few minutes asking several moderate difficulty questions to the class, and most of the Slytherins, as well as Hermione were able to answer them successfully. The rest of the Gryffindors were unable to answer a single question however, and Professor Snape deducted a single point from their house for each wrong answer or blank look.

Finally, the Potions Master set them as pairs to brew their very first potion, a simple mixture intended to cure boils. Hermione ended up rather glad that she was working with Harry instead of anyone else. While the majority of other students were having difficulty with just arranging the ingredients and following the instructions without incident, Hermione found herself able to focus completely on the theory behind the brewing, as she quickly found out that Harry was quite adept at Potions, and was able to not only make a flawless boil cure, but show her things she would not have noticed on her own about the potion as it was created. During the final stages, Harry and Hermione were working completely in tandem, Hermione stirring as Harry added the final ingredients. Professor Snape had passed several times, pausing to observe their work, and finding nothing wrong with their potion, had moved on in silence.

So absorbed with their work was Hermione, that she did not notice her dropping into an old studying habit from primary school, humming slightly under her breath some notes that just felt right to her as she stirred the potion. Harry watched her after the last component was in the cauldron, finally speaking again when she finally stopped, "why were you humming?" he asked innocently.

The gentleness of the voice was enough for Hermione to not want to think up some excuse as she had before, and answer honestly, "I don't really know, it just felt like the right thing to do is all…"

"Ah, well, it seems to work" Harry responded quietly, falling silent with a thoughtful look on his face for the rest of the lesson.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Draco glared at Potter and the Mudblood Granger during the lesson. Not only had Potter refused his friendship, both before and after the Sorting, but he had not even shown up all week in their dormitory, as if he was better than them. And now, to top it all off, he was acting like some useless Hufflepuff, making friends with Gryffindors and Mudbloods, sitting between the group of Slytherins and Gryffindors throughout the lesson.

Draco was sure that Professor Snape would have had something to say or do about it, but his Godfather had done nothing about it, even so much as showing, in his own way, approval of their working together. It was maddening, and Draco wasn't going to stand for it. He vowed to have a good long chat with Potter during Lunch about House pride and the true order of things, but when he went to the Slytherin table at noon, the hazel eyed boy was nowhere to be seen.

Potter was quickly starting to piss Draco off, and he spent the whole meal, and the next two classes complaining to Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle, just loud enough for Potter to hear. But the boy ignored him, and disappeared again just before dinner. Draco had had enough, deciding to follow the boy and find out where he was going. Unfortunately, Draco was either too loud or Potter too quiet, because Draco lost him somewhere on the second floor, near a girls bathroom.

Grumbling angrily, Draco returned to the Great Hall, and wasn't surprised when he did not see Potter again until the next day, but refused to lose interest. He would find out what the strange boy was up to, no matter what.


	3. Chapter 2

**So, managed another chapter of this difficult to write story. Thankfully i enjoy it immesnly and therefore will not give up on it, although it is getting serious writer's block when compared to me other fics. Please assist me my readers! Reviews will spark the muse to sing the music of the night to me!**

**Chapter Two**

**The Angel of Music**

Hermione grew to love her time down in the potion's classroom. It was by far the most interesting of all the classes, and that was saying a lot as she found everything absolutely entrancing. But Potions held a special place in her heart, not only because of the subject, which she adored, but because of her very first friend, Harry Potter. She was very saddened to find that the Gryffindors and Slytherins only shared that one class together.

Unfortunately, most of her housemates did not share her enthusiasm for the class, or Slytherins in general. Many times she found herself at the butt end of rude comments or jokes, and many of her fellows would loudly criticize Professor Snape and the Slytherin students for little to no reason. Hermione was quickly wishing that she had not been sorted into the house, but there was little that she could do about it. Hogwarts, a History clearly stated that the Sorting Hat's judgment was final, and all attempts to change houses had ended very badly for the students in question.

So, she turned to her normal coping habit, and threw herself into her studies. She went to the library as often as she could, and checked out anything that she felt would further the basics they were being taught in their classes. Consequently, she improved greatly in her class work, and started earning many points for her house, which relieved some of the tension from the other Gryffindors on her.

The Thursday of the fourth week of term was the mandatory flying lesson for all first years, and Hermione was secretly delighted that Gryffindor had been assigned to be with the Slytherin students. She had worried the entire previous week when she had never seen Harry outside of Potions, and through she might ask where the boy went off to when he wasn't in classes, but she had reservations of actually wanting to pry. The boy was just so gentle and quiet, that Hermione didn't want to get too pushy and drive her only friend away.

Unfortunately, the first lesson, poor Neville had gotten a onto a bad broom and had broken his arm when it shot upward with his atop it, sending him crashing painfully to the ground. The Slytherins, excluding Harry, and the Gryffindors had begun to fight after that, over a rememberall that Neville had lost from his pocket in his desperation to cling to his broom, and both Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley got caught by Professor McGonagall and the entire class was dismissed, and before Hermione could find him again, Harry had vanished.

She frowned, following in the wake of the rest of the students to the Great Hall for lunch, the other first years still sending glares across the tables, but Hermione was oblivious to them. She had distracted herself with a new book on slightly advanced charms for their level, and was quietly humming as she read.

She was totally enamored with her book, that she didn't noticed a person come and sit next to her until Ronald spoke up loudly from his place several students away, "Hey, get out of here you slimy snake."

Hermione looked up, and squashed a tiny gasp as she saw Harry sitting next to her, smiling slightly as he read over her shoulder. Ignoring Ronald, Harry pulled a small plate of food toward him, and ate delicately. The ignorant red head blustered some more, but _finally_ realizing that he was being ignored, not only be his target, but the rest of his own house as well, he muttered angrily and slid further down the table, away from Harry and Hermione.

"You looked like you wanted some company," Harry said after Ron had left, the same quiet tone that Hermione endeared so much.

"Well, yes actually I did." Hermione replied, getting excited, she might finally get some answers, "I kind was wondering… if it's not too private, but… well… where do you go, you know, when you disappear for meals and such?"

Harry sat there thoughtfully for a moment, picking a the scraps of food on his claimed palate before answering, "you need to promise that you won't tell anyone about it first, before I'll tell you."

"Who would I tell?" Hermione responded seriously, earning a tiny chuckle from the hazel eyed boy. "Yes, I promise." she affirmed, and Harry nodded.

"Alright. You know you habit of singing or humming during classes or when you perform magic." She nodded, something in the back of her mind wondering how he knew she did it while casting as well, as they shared no other classes but Potions. "Well, I do it also." Hermione gasped slightly, before recovering.

"And… well, it may seem odd, but I've found out that that talent is in of itself magical in nature. And I've found someone who is teaching me to perfect it. An Angel of Music, who sings through these walls and helps those who find themselves friendless and alone."

Hermione wanted to laugh, but knew better when she saw the complete seriousness in the boy's eyes. "The Angel is very strict though," he continued, "and I must practice as often as I can to meet his requirements, but he is very knowledgeable when it comes to magical music, and I am very grateful to him for his tutelage."

Hermione nodded, eager to hear more of the story, but still unsure if it was fiction or not.

"I've told the Angel about you Hermione, and he is very interested in your talent as well. He has told me that he intends to contact you soon, and offer you similar training to perfect your voice, and enhance the potency of you magic in ways you can only imagine." Harry added in a hushed whisper.

"Wow, I would love to learn magical music." Hermione breathed, heart racing at the thoughts of what this branch of magic could do. She hoped it was true, and had every intention of scouring the library for any mention of it as soon as possible.

"I must go now, the Angel does not like to be kept waiting, but I wanted to see you, and tell you the good news." Harry added, standing turning toward the entrance hall, "I'll see you on Saturday Hermione." He said, and left, ignoring the glare from Ronald Weasley as he left.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Draco watched carefully as Harry bloody Potter left the Great Hall. 'I have you now,' he thought as he stealthily slipped out after the antisocial prat. After speaking only with the Mudblood Granger, Potter thought he could just leave without paying the rest of his house the respect of his presence that they more than deserved. Draco didn't think so…

Up to the second floor, down a corridor, and around a bend Draco sneaked behind the black haired boy, until, to Draco's astonishment, the infuriating boy ducked into a _girl's_ lavatory. The nerve of Potter, thinking he could go just anywhere he pleased. Draco was about to storm in himself and catch the hazel eyed boy red handed, but he paused, one hand on the doorknob, listening intently at the sounds coming from the inside of the bathroom.

It sounded like, hissing… almost snake-like, but that was impossible. It had to be something like a pipe leaking or some magical side effects. As soon as the odd sound stopped, Draco summoned up his nerve and pushed the door open.

No one was there.

'Must be hiding in one of the stalls,' Draco thought, sneering at the disturbing thought. 'It's really for his own good if I catch him instead of Filch or a teacher caught him…' stealthily checking each stall, Draco was unfortunately, and to his immense displeasure, unable to find any trace of Potter. It was as if he turned invisible as soon as he entered the bathroom.

Scowling in frustration, Draco left the lavatory, shuffling his feet as he started back toward the dungeons. But he had no sooner turned away from the bathroom door than a silvery figure emerged from the wall to his left. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin, but relaxed instantly. It was just the dumb old Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick.

"I would leave here as soon as I could if I were you," he said eerily, his silvery form bobbing up and down as he spoke, "The Phantom of Hogwarts likes to frequent this floor, and he isn't too kind to those who linger near his domain…"

"Phantom of Hogwarts?" Draco said scathingly, "Never heard of it…"

The ghost floated closer to Draco, and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Some say that it's the specter of a long dead student, set on revenge. Others think that it may be the manifestation of the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Art's job, as many of the former professors claimed to have seen the phantom…"

Draco was starting to become mildly frightened, but suspicious at the same time. Some of the tales seemed far too farfetched to be true, and certainly his father would have told him something that important if it was true.

Just then, another translucent figure floated out of the wall behind Nick. Draco recognized the Bloody Baron, resident ghost of Slytherin house. He rarely spoke, but Draco shivered as his gravelly voice filled the hallway, his cold eyes fixed on Nick. "Those who speak of what they know, find too late that prudent silence is wise… Nick de Mimsy hold your tongue!" The Gryffindor ghost was backing away from the Baron, eyes darting left and right as the Slytherin ghost continued, now focused intently on Draco, "Keep your hands, at the level of your eyes!"

Draco couldn't take anymore. He bolted for the nearest staircase, practically flying back to the dungeons, completely forgetting why he had bothered to follow Potter in the first place. If the Bloody Baron believed in this phantom, then it had to be true. His father had explicitly told him to trust anything that the Slytherin ghost said, as he always had the interest of fellow snakes at heart.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Phantom of Hogwarts watched from the shadows as the Malfoy boy sprinted away from the two ghosts, running as fast as his feet would carry him. His green eyes flashed as he thought about how close the boy had been to seeing him. If the Gryffindor ghost had not stopped him, the boy might have had to be disposed of.

At least the Baron had instilled the proper amount of fear and respect of the Phantom into both the boy and his fellow ghost, who had quickly followed the boy's lead and departed. The Baron floated there for a few moments longer, and the Phantom chose to announce himself, "I…am the Phantom of Hogwarts…"

"Master?…" the Baron said, looking left and right for the source of the voice.

"The thanks of the Phantom is not lightly given…" the Phantom said cryptically, before departing, intent on watching his newest fascination as she left the Great Hall to return to Gryffindor Tower.

There were many secrets in the castle of Hogwarts, and the Phantom knew them all, passing effortlessly from corridor to corridor, keeping ahead of or outpacing the girl who had become the main subject of all the Phantom's dreams. "Hermione…" he whispered, and the girl looked around in puzzlement, before shrugging and resuming her trek up to Gryffindor Tower.

The Phantom smiled as he watched her go. He had big plans ahead for her, and if anything had taught the Phantom, it was that time was the most plentiful commodity in Hogwarts.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Hermione was excited come the morning of Halloween, but not for the holiday feast set to take place at dinner. She was looking forward to Charms class just before the feast, where Professor Flitwick was going to teach them the levitation charm, Wingardium Leviosa. Hermione had studied long and hard for this, and she arrived early to the classroom, long before any of the other Gryffindors.

Unfortunately, tiny Professor Flitwick decided that they would practice the charm in pairs, and set her with Ronald Weasley, which both parties weren't please about. "Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too. Never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was rather difficult, and many of the students were making simple mistakes, if they paid any attention instead of simply trying again. Ronald was one of these, eventually reduced by frustration to shouting the words and waving his arms like a pair of windmills instead of following the instructions. Inevitably, Hermione lost her patience with the red haired boy, "you're saying it wrong," she snapped, "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you so clever," Ronald snarled back at her, looking away.

Rolling up her sleeves, Hermione flicked her wand in the correct movement, and stated the incantation clearly with the proper enunciation. The feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet in the air above them. Humming slightly, she got the feather to perform several artful flips and spins midair as it hovered.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ronald was sour and moody the rest of the class, refusing to speak to Hermione or participate further. After the bell rang, he dashed off with the other Gryffindor boys, speaking loudly, "It's no wonder no one can stand her," he was saying as Hermione got within earshot, "She's a nightmare, honestly, not hard to believe why she hasn't got any friends…"

Hermione stopped, tears starting to well up as the rest of the class pushed past her toward the Great Hall. The last jibe, about her friends had hurt quite a deal. Hermione had never interacted well socially in any schooling environment. Even some teachers referred to her as 'too smart for her own good' back in primary school. The harsh reality started to crash down on her, and she sped off toward the nearest bathroom to cry.

Shutting herself into the bathroom, Hermione began to cry softly, until she heard the beginnings of what sounded like a violin playing, followed by the most magical voice she had ever heard. "_Wandering child, so lost, so helpless_… _Yearning for my guidance_…"

"What? Who's there?" Hermione said, shocked and confused. It sounded like a boy's voice, and that bothered Hermione greatly.

"_Have you forgotten the Angel_?..."

'Angel?' Hermione thought quickly, 'what Ang…Oh!' Hermione's eyes widened. The Angel of Music. "_Angel of Music, my protector_! _Come to me Strange Angel_…" she replied, voice wavering slightly as she fell into song purely by instinct.

"_I am your Angel of Music_…._Come to me, Angel of Music_…" replied the voice. The words were so intoxicating, Hermione started unbolting the stall, slowly following the voice to its source, but once she stepped out of the toilet stall, she came face to face with a giant grayish mountain troll.

She screamed.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Phantom had not expected or desired himself to be interrupted so soon, least of all by a troll. Quickly he put Hermione to sleep with a quick spell, summoning her to the corner where he had been lurking in the bathroom. The troll followed with its head, mouth hanging open stupidly as it watched.

"You have just made the biggest mistake of your life, troll…" The Phantom said coldly to it. The troll didn't respond, clearly incapable of speech. Instead it raised its club and charged. Nimbly the Phantom leapt to the side, letting the troll collide heavily with the stalls of the bathroom, shattering them into rubble. Subtle casting several spell in sequence, The Phantom suddenly had several doppelgangers dashing in different directions, confusing the troll into wasting time swinging at the fakes. This allowed time for the Phantom to begin empowering his spells with song, almost chanting as he waved his wand, "I am the Phantom of Hogwarts… Beware the Phantom of Hogwarts!"

Then, lashing out with his wand, the Phantom caused several deep and bleeding gashed to appear on the troll's midsection and legs, causing it to howl in agony, lumbering toward the Phantom. Dodging another swing of the giant club, the Phantom send several more silent spells out, preparing for the endgame with this beast. Finally, sending a high powered stinging hex into the Troll's backside, the Phantom stood his ground as the animal charged again, lumbering foolishly into the tripwire the Phantom had conjured. Heavy enchanted ropes fell from the ceiling, right around the troll's squat head, snuggling up like a noose around its neck.

"Keep your hands at the level of your eyes…" the Phantom sang, as the ropes went taut, wrenching the troll upwards, and with a mighty snapping sound, broke its neck clean. It hung there, suspended magically at if in a gallows. The Phantom paused a moment to admire his work, before leaving his call sign for the teachers to find and attribute the destruction of the troll to its proper source, before levitating Hermione and removing her from the presence of the dead troll.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Halloween feast had just started, only to be interrupted by Professor Quirrell's shouts of 'Troll in the dungeons.' The students were in a panic, until Albus shot loud purple firecrackers into the air with his wand, silencing them instantly.

"Prefects," Albus sternly said to the students, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

The students obeyed immediately, Percy Weasley of Gryffindor spearheading the organization for the students' departure. 'Have to remember this when he become the right age to be Head Boy," Albus mused as he began marshaling the teachers to scour the dungeons. A nod at Severus sent him to protect the third floor corridor, just in case Lord Voldemort was using the troll as a distraction.

For several minutes they dashed around the dungeons, before McGonagall used the four points charm to search for the troll. She sprinted away, back toward the main part of the school, Albus hot on her heels. The other teachers were outpaced greatly in the Headmaster's haste to find this threat. It led them up to a bathroom on the fourth floor. McGonagall had beaten Albus by several seconds, and backed out of the bathroom in horror as he approached.

Pointing a shaky finger inside, Minerva attempted to speak, "Its… its…"

Albus didn't wait, pushing open the door and stepping in. The troll, what was left of it, was hung from the ceiling by powerful ropes, hangman style. The cruelty of the scene was sickening, but more so was the message written on the wall in greenish troll blood.

_I have delivered your school from mortal peril, and now you owe me. Await my owl._

_Your humble servant._

_The Phantom of Hogwarts…_

**Hey**

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	4. Chapter 3

**Ok, so its been a little while, but i finally kicked my muse in the butt and got another chapter done... Review Please! this story is turning out to be way harder than I expected, not that I'm complaining hehe...**

**Chapter Three**

**Demands**

The entire school was abuzz with the news that the Phantom of Hogwarts had struck, slaying the troll released on Halloween. Hermione knew no more than that there had indeed been a troll, and that her Angel of Music had saved her, as she had woken with a note in her pocket outside Gryffindor Tower, well after the incident had occurred. The note filled Hermione's heart with joy every time she read it.

'_My dearest Hermione,_

_Your voice pleases me, and I cannot allow such talent to go untrained any longer. You will hear from me when it is time for your lessons._

_The Angel of Music_'

Hermione kept the letter under her pillow, and kept her ears open for the singsong voice of her Angel wherever she went. The first day after the troll incident was slow, and Hermione kept her silence during classes, preferring to focus on her school work and fantasy about her mysterious friend. No one really noticed, except for Harry, but he seemed to attribute the silence to a desire to focus on their potion.

And so the entire day went by, and Hermione was saddened that she had not heard from her Angel yet. Slipping under the cover in the Gryffindor girl's dormitory, she pulled the letter out again, reading it and sighing in longing. Not only was the concept of new and special magical learning so appealing to her, but there was just something about the Angel that was so attracting. Just as she thought this, Hermione started to hear music, soft and quiet, coming from somewhere inside the room. None of the other girls were disturbed by this apparently, as they slept on.

The music was so enchanting, that soon Hermione drifted off to sleep, and in her dreams the Angel of Music came to her.

"Hello my dearest Hermione," he half, spoke half sang to her.

"Angel?" Hermione asked, confused slightly as to how it was possible. Somehow she knew she was asleep, but that he was truly here. She still couldn't see her angel, but his presence was distantly felt.

"I am here, Hermione," the Angel reassured her, "I have come to begin your teaching in the power of music…"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Over the course of the month of November, the school returned to normal. Albus was quite content with how quickly the student body had forgotten the incident with the troll. Even Albus himself started to glaze over the incident until a large great grey owl swooped down to the Head table, shortly after the normal mail sweep. The bird clattered to a halt directly in front of Albus, a black envelope clutched in its beak. Gingerly, Albus took the letter, noting with concern the red wax skull sealing the letter. Its delivery complete, the owl took off again, soaring up and away out the high windows.

Hesitantly, Albus broke the skull seal and opened the letter. It was written on yellowing parchment, in a crimson ink that looked suspiciously like blood.

'_To Headmaster Albus Dumbledore_

_For the beginning of your repayment to me for my continued service to your school, I request that you immediately change the standpoint of Hogwart's School to allow orphaned students to remain in the school dormitories for the duration of the summer holidays. May this be the beginning of a good relationship…_

_Your Humble Servant,_

_PoH_'

Albus stared at the letter for several moments, confused by the unusual request. Or demand as this supposed Phantom must have known it was. However, the current request was simple enough, not that it affected any of the students currently at Hogwarts, and if it silenced this annoyance, all the better.

That was, until a regal looking Ministry owl swooped into the Great Hall, the black ribbon on the letter fluttering in the air as it fell directly onto the Gryffindor table, in front of Miss Hermione Granger. Albus, along with all the other professors watched in silent horror as the young girl opened the envelope with trembling hands.

Albus could only guess what the exact wording of the letter was, but nearly everyone in the hall knew the general idea of the letter. It was from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. During the first war, these letters had become a common enough sight as parents of many students, Muggleborns primarily, were killed by the Death Eaters. Indeed this was a similar letter, Albus noted, as young Miss Granger was currently sobbing uncontrollably as her fellow Gryffindors, and Slytherin Harry Potter comforted her.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Ron Weasley stood slightly off to the side as a large group of fellow Gryffindors surrounded Hermione, rallying around to support her as she cried. Even the slimy git, Potter, was there, patting her arm and whispering to her. He did feel bad for the girl, even if she was annoying and bossy, but he couldn't bring himself to do or say anything right now, especially with a Slytherin right there next to her, probably listening in on all the Gryffindor talk around him.

Ron chose to leave instead, heading back toward Gryffindor Tower until classes started. He had a bad feeling that Hermione's tragedy might put a damper on the upcoming Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch game, but he hoped he was wrong.

On the war up, however, Ron saw a glimpse of something rather odd. It was Professor Quirrell, standing in an apparently empty room, arguing with himself. The door was only open a small crack, and Ron pressed his face to it to see the irritated Professor, holding a letter and murmuring to himself.

"How dare someone write this, Master do you really think that this is a good idea? Someone must know, if this letter is any proof."

And to Ron's dismay, someone, probably out of his limited sight, answered, a higher voice than he would have expected, "Yes, continue with the plan, I must have it, and no one will prevent us."

"Of course Master." Quirrell finally said, crumpling up the letting and throwing it to the floor, before leaving out the far door from Ron's.

Quickly and quietly, Ron sneaked into the room, constantly checking for the Defense Professor's return, and scooped up the discarded parchment.

Reading it quickly, both the boy's eyebrows rose at the writing.

'_Your time left at Hogwarts School is numbered. Do not attempt to steal from the Forbidden Corridor again. You have been warned._

_PoH_'

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Hermione couldn't believe it. Her world seemed to be crumbling around her. Staring in pure sorrow at the letter in her hands, she reread the awful words once again.

'_Miss Hermione Granger_

_We at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement are saddened to inform you of the tragic deaths of your parents, Patrick and Samantha Granger, were killed yesterday evening by an intruder who broke into their home with intents to steal from the couple. We at the Ministry will do an in depth and complete search in conjunction with the muggle authorities, as we believe that the perpetrator may have been magical._

_Hoping your well,_

_Madam Amelia Bones_'

Several large blotches now stained the parchment from her tears. Professor McGonagall came over after the rest of the students had cleared away for classes. "Miss Granger," she said sympathetically, but Hermione was still rather distraught to notice or care, "If you'd care to come with me to the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey has a Calming Draught waiting for you."

Hermione sniffed loudly and nodded, allowing the Head of Gryffindor to guide her along the corridors to the Infirmary. She remained in a rather disoriented state even after taking the vial of cyan liquid, and Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey mutually agreed that she should be excused from classes and allowed to rest in the Infirmary for the entire day.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Phantom watched sadly from the shadows as his beloved Hermione slept restlessly in Hogwart's Infirmary. Fate had played into his hands once again, allowing his prized student to remain at the school year round with him from now on. Reaching out to brush the dark curls, the Phantom of Hogwarts sighed, "My dear Hermione, I am sorry for this tragedy to you, but I am also glad that you can now be with me… forever."

He sat there with her for several undisturbed seconds, finally decided to speak with her directly, and slipped gently into her mind. As if the girl could sense his presence immediately, the Phantom heard her voice calling to him from all corners of her mind. "_I am here my Angel_… he sang to her, sending the clear melody of his voice out to her, caressing her with the music of the night, settling her distraught mind. "Sing with me, my Angel of Music," he called out to her, and felt the excitement wafting from Hermione subconscious "Tonight, the Phantom of Hogwarts is here, inside your mind!"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Draco felt the rest of the school year slip past in a blaze of uninteresting glory. Exams came and went, and nothing seemed to be amiss in the rest of the school. After the Mudblood girl, Granger, heard of her dead parents, not a single thing happened to disrupt the lives of the students. Sure, the giant oaf of a gamekeeper was caught with a dragon in his wooden hut, and the creature was sent out to Romania to live in a dragon preserve, and Professor Quirrell disappeared during the last week or so of classes, but not many students paid any attention to those sorts of things.

Draco was far more interested in the subtle change in the boy, Harry Potter. Instead of the quiet confidence that the boy had been brimming with at the beginning of the year, he was more concentrated, and Draco would almost consider the black haired and very irritating boy was plotting something. Draco but every time he tried to discover what the boy was up to, he kept losing him on the second floor, always near the same girls toilet. There had to be something special there, like a secret passage or something, but Draco never had had time to thoroughly search the area.

And before Draco knew it, the school year had ended, and they were all, minus one Mudblood, were piling back onto the scarlet steam engine to travel back to London. Walking up and down the crowded corridor of the Hogwart's Express, Draco made a special note that he had not seen a single hint of Potter on the train with the rest of the students.

He would definitely have some questions for his Father when he got home.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Quirrell had played his part magnificently. Dumbledore was away, and the path to the Sorcerer's Stone was cleared at last. The last obstacle, a large mirror in the center of a deserted room, remained. He and his Master were only just starting to figure out how the mirror worked, when a voice started emanating from the darkness of the room.

"_Beware to those, who scorn his word. The Angel sees, the Angel knows…_"

Whirling, Quirrell shouted, "Who's there! Show yourself!"

The eerie voice continued, seemingly appearing and disappearing from several points in the room, all out of Quirrell's view. "_I am here… The Phantom of Hogwarts… I am here… The Phantom of Hogwarts… I AM HERE!_"

Neither Quirrell nor his Master had a moment to think before thick ropes ensnared the Defense Professor around the neck, lifting him from the ground. His wand fell with a clatter as he attempted to prevent himself from choking. From the shadows a figure emerged, thick black cloak around his shoulders, hood up. "I had sent you several notes detailing how MY school was to be run, Quirrell. You failed to adhere to my advice, and once again attempted to steal my Stone…"

"Who do you think you are!?" Quirrell gasped out, eyes widening as the short figure lifted his face to look at him. The white mask covering have his face seemed to glow in the torchlight. "I am the Phantom of Hogwarts, and you… dear Quirrell, are unfortunately not going to see the light of day again…"

Quirrell was getting light headed, and shouted out for his Master to assist him to no avail. Digging at the ropes, Quirrell was becoming frantic, straining to keep alert. Legs flailing, starting to lose consciousness, Quirrell saw the Phantom child retrieve his dropped wand. "Let this be a lesson to those who would harm any under the protection of the Phantom. Goodbye Quirrell, you won't be missed…

Quirrell died, lost and alone in the depths of the Third Floor Corridor.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Dumbledore returned to the school in a rush. The alarms he had set in the final room of the Forbidden corridor were sounding magically around him. Rushing past the subdued defenses, Albus had to pause just outside the Mirror Room. There were two figured still inside, one speaking to the other.

"Let this be a lesson to those who would harm any under the protection of the Phantom. Goodbye Quirrell, you won't be missed…"

Albus' eyes widened somewhat, the Phantom of Hogwarts was a real person, not some prank or an actual ghost. Moving inside after the figure had vanished, Albus observed the aftermath. Professor Quirrell was hung, much like the Troll he had released on Halloween, and just as dead, albeit to suffocation instead of a broken neck. The Phantom seemed to have struck again, and in the defense of the school and its secrets.

Shaking his head sadly at the loss of Quirrell to interrogate, Albus turned to the mirror itself, hoping to extract the Stone and return it to Nicholas. But, as he said the words to unlock the mirror, he found it empty. Someone had already taken the Stone, and from the looks of it long before the Phantom and Quirrell had their disagreement.

This was bad…

If Voldemort had the Stone, which Albus hoped with all his heart wasn't true, then he would definitely return soon. If not, then Albus had to find it before Voldemort could take it from the poor fool who had it now. Either way, poor Nicholas and Perenelle were doomed to die without their constant supply of the Elixir of Life. And what was worse, Albus had never had the chance to gauge if Harry Potter was up to challenging Voldemort, the boy was far too solitary and had shown little to no interest in the goings on of the school that year.

Removing the dead Professor, Albus noticed that his turban had fallen off slightly, and that the back of Quirrell's head had been badly mangled, as if something had ripped itself from him in the last moments of his life.

All around, it was a very bad end of the year that was supposed to be the fruition of all Albus' strategic plots.


	5. Chapter 4

**Well, I feel rather proud of myself that I managed two chapters in two weeks on this. the brain juice has started to flow freely again, and the Muse is singing the sweet melodies of the Night. Review please, and feed me the sweet nector of outside opinions so i may conjure up more of all my stories!**

**Chapter Four**

**An Unknown Benefactor**

Hermione felt rather alone during the summer, staying behind at Hogwarts with only the remaining staff members and her Angel for company. The only letters she ever received were from Harry, the boy's snowy owl delivering on a regular basis, except from one early on from the Goblin clans of Gringotts. Apparently all her parents' assets had been collected and stored for her in her own vault, free of charge, along with a sizable donation of gold from parties unknown. Hermione chose to take it as a blessing from her Angel, influencing the world in her time of need.

Late in August, Professor McGonagall arrived to prepare her classes, and also took Hermione to Diagon Alley to purchase her school supplies, extending her own personal condolences as well. Hermione was touched that the normally stern Transfiguration teacher cared enough to try and make Hermione's day a bit better, allowing them to spend some of Hermione's gold at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, as well as window shop through several stores that Hermione would never envision the Head of Gryffindor stepping foot inside.

When they finally had to return to the castle, Hermione and Professor McGonagall were having a great time together, which effectively pushed away the sour thoughts that Hermione had had lingering in the back of her mind, of how she should have been there with her parents. The peace lasted well through September the first, and the return of the other students.

Sitting at the long Gryffindor Table in the Great Hall, Hermione waited for the other students to arrive at the castle. In small groups they trickled in, brought by carriages pulled from Hogsmead village, and the hall was soon filled to near capacity. From the Slytherin table, Hermione say Harry wave to her, before the great doors opened, ushering in the newest group of first years.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Draco glared angrily at Potter during the sorting. Once again he had searched the train for the boy, just to come up with nothing. It was as if the irritating black haired menace didn't even come by train, as if he was too good for it. Draco was further annoyed by the fact that his own father had no insights on the mysterious Phantom of Hogwarts, saying that he had never heard of one.

He had told Draco, however, that things were going to happen at Hogwarts that were going to fundamentally change things to the core, and that no matter what happens; Draco should keep his head down and not interfere. His father hadn't been too specific, so Draco had no idea what these things that were going to happen were, or how he could work to not interfere. As the sorting finished, Draco glanced up at Dumbledore, who introduced their newest professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, the foppish star of the many expensive and boring books that they had been forced to purchase for the year.

Draco just rolled his eyes before turning his attention to his food. This year's Defense against the Dark Arts was proving to be just a useless as last years. With luck Lockhart would vanish just as Professor Quirrell had toward the end of the previous year. That thought reminded Draco that Dumbledore had never truly explained where the stuttering fool had vanished to…

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class etc. was taking a leisurely stroll through the castle courtyards, when the sounds of laughter attracted his attention. Approaching the knot of students, Gilderoy heard his two favorite words in the world.

"Signed photos?! You're giving out signed photos?!" came the voice of a red headed second year boy from Gryffindor.

"Who's giving out signed photos?" Gilderoy said, coming fully into courtyard. "Should have guessed," he answered himself, spying the 'famous' Harry Potter, "We meet at last Mr. Potter." He added, throwing an arm around the boy before addressing the little first year with a camera. "Go on ahead, my boy, a double portrait then, and we'll both sign it for you."

The boy beamed, while the rest of the students looked on in jealousy. Fumbling for his camera the first year took a single picture as the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.

Harry stated to squirm in Gilderoy's grasp, clearly wanting to get to his next class, Gilderoy's own, and get a front row seat, but the five time winner of Witch Week's Most Charming Smile Award held him back for a moment. "A word to the wise, Harry," he offered good naturedly as they walked toward the castle together, "I covered up for you back there… if students are photographing me too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much…"

Harry must have been in awe, getting advice directly from his idol, and Gilderoy continued on, happy to assist the budding star, "Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible… looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but…" he gave a little chortle, "I don't think you're quite there yet."

Harry was hanging on his every word, but they had reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, and alas… Gilderoy had to leave him to teach the rest of his adoring students. He was saddened to see, however, that little Harry hadn't had the sense to claim a front row seat when he had the chance, as they were all stolen immediately upon the arrival of his classmates, and the poor boy was forced to sit in the back row.

'I'll do something to help that boy,' Gilderoy promised himself as he began to teach.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Albus hadn't truly expected to hear from the Phantom again, after the incident with the troll and his following demand, but the letter that had mysteriously appeared on his desk in the Head office begged otherwise. What was worse was that neither Fawkes nor any of the portraits had seen who had left it.

The same sickly yellow parchment affixed with the skull seal glared back at him as Albus hesitated to open the letter, fearing what demands the rogue person may have in store for Albus. What the Headmaster of Hogwarts hated more than anything was being powerless, and yet here he was, facing an opponent who had absolute control over what Albus could do, with the threat of violence and the stealth to strike where and whenever he wished.

Sighing heavily, Albus broke the wax and unfolded the parchment, dreading the words he read.

_Headmaster Albus Dumbledore_

_I am always watching, Headmaster, as you are no doubt aware, and I must say in my humblest opinion that I do __**not **__approve of your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart. He is a fraud, and possesses no magical talent worthy of the post. I urge you to dispose of him and find a suitable replacement before someone is harmed by his blunderings. Ignore my wishes, and a disaster beyond your imagination will occur._

_PoH_

Albus groaned audibly, summoning a bottle of elf wine and pouring himself a double measure. He was in the thick of it now, being threatened to remove the only teacher that had applied for the jinxed position, or face the unknown consequences of a mad murderer. Albus couldn't really remove Gilderoy, despite the truthfulness of the Phantom's statements of his inadequacy for the post, and he would appear weak in front of the whole of the wizarding world if he bowed to such threats.

Pouring another goblet of the wine, Albus pondered his options; do nothing, which would be disastrous, or send people after this Phantom, which could be even worse than doing nothing. What was there to do, Albus despaired. Taking the Phantom's letter, he strode to his large fireplace, lit it with his wand and tossed the entire dreadful missive within; watching with worry as the wax melted and the parchment was consumed in the flames.

Turning to the phoenix on its perch, Albus asked desperately, "What am I to do about this, my old friend?"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The shade of Tom Riddle had waited long enough, locked in the tiny diary he had prepared so many years ago. It was time for the heir of Slytherin to make himself known, and strike fear back into this school.

Taking control of the pathetic girl who had his diary was a simple enough task, and guiding her to the secret entrance of the Chamber of Secrets was equally child's play. Hissing out the key, Tom control the red headed Gryffindor girl stealthily climbed down to the vast open chamber of his noble ancestor. The only thing which paused the specter in his progress was to note the sizable increase in the water level at the bottom of the Chamber. The water was nearly halfway to the nose of the great statue of Salazar Slytherin, but did not nearly come close to covering the passageway that the Basilisk used to emerge from the depths of the Chamber.

"_Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwart's four…_" Tom hissed in the girls irritatingly high voice. Smirking as the Basilisk emerged, Tom commanded it to go forth and slay the first being it came across, no longer caring to kill just Mudbloods. He had a greater prey to flush out now. One that would spill all his secrets before Tom allowed him to pass into the beyond.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Ron was among the mass of students that first arrived on the second floor from the Halloween feast, and were just in time to view see the blood red writing on the wall near the girls toilet.

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAD BEEN OPENED._

_ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE_

And there in the middle was the 'great' Harry Potter, caught red handed with a dead Mrs. Norris hung by the tail on a candle bracket. Ron could have laughed out loud as Argus Filch, the creepy squib caretaker hoisted the slimy snake by the robes and shook him roughly. If anything, the irritating once-savior had the nerve to glare back at the cankerous caretaker.

"Remove your hands from me, now." he said calmly, heard even over Filch's screeching about his murdered cat, not that any of the students cared. It was a pity that Dumbledore arrived to save Potter, ushering Potter, Filch, and the rest of the teachers away, hopefully to find out exactly what the slimy git had done and expel Potter once and for all.

"Serves him right, the traitor," Ron murmured to Dean and Seamus, who were next to him.

_CRACK_

Ron staggered as a hand struck him across the face. Hermione Granger stood there, angry as Ron had never seen any girl other than his mother, her hand still where it had hit him. "It does not!" she yelled at him. "Harry is the nicest, most considerate person I've ever met, don't you dare say that he deserves this!"

Ron glared at the stuck up know-it-all, "You had better hope it is him who did it," he said angrily, cheek still stinging painfully, "because if it isn't, your lot will be next, you filthy little Mudblood."

Granger looked like she'd hit him again, but Ron left quickly, bee lining straight for Gryffindor Tower. What did he care what Granger thought, it's not like she really mattered to him… it's not like she was cute whatsoever, bouncing up and down in her seat when she wanted to answer a question, or when she put her bookmark behind her ear while reading in the common room… 'I mean,' Ron thought angrily as he closed the curtains to his four-poster, 'she's a traitor too, anyway, consorting with Slytherins and all that…'

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Albus had feared that something like this would happen. Staring at Harry Potter over the desk on which the frozen form of Mrs. Norris lay, Albus knew exactly what had happened. The Phantom of Hogwarts had exacted his vengeance and opened the Chamber of Secrets, releasing the monster within to torment the school until his demands were met.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her, probably the Transmogrifian Torture, I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved

her…" Gilderoy was prattling on, and Albus couldn't truly fault the Phantom for wanting the man's dismissal, just the means the mysterious figure was willing to go through to achieve his desires.

Gilderoy's incessant comments were punctuated by Argus' dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Even Harry was looking rather disturbed by the events, despite the cold mask the Slytherin was showing in the light of his imagined possible expulsion.

"She's not dead, Argus," Albus confirmed at last, speaking softly.

Gilderoy stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented, switching to a new story of how he knew it all along. Albus continued to ignore him.

"Not dead?" choked Argus, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all… all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say…"

"Ask _him_!" shrieked Argus, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.

"No second year could have done this," Albus said firmly. "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced…"

"He did it, he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what he wrote on the wall!"

"Why would I ever _want_ to harm, let alone touch, your mangy old cat?" Harry said icily, but the boy was interrupted by Severus, who emerged from the shadows into the candlelight.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," the Potions Master asked, before continuing, "Perhaps it is as simple as Mr. Potter having been in the wrong place at the wrong time? innocent before proven guilty after all…"

"My cat has been petrified!" Argus shrieked, eyes popping and mouth starting to foam, "I want to see some punishment!"

Patiently, Albus explained that they would be able to cure Argus' cat, Pomona Sprout having just procured several Mandrakes at the beginning of that very year. 'Lucky thing that,' Albus thought as he released Harry to return to the dungeons before turning his thoughts back to the cause of the attack, 'something that can petrify with great ease, related to Slytherin, and able to move about the school unseen…'

Albus had few thoughts as to what the mysterious creature that dwelt within the Chamber could be, but it was definitely an illegal classed being. Heading toward the library, Albus figured to do a little research and unravel this mystery himself.


	6. Chapter 5

**Yea! new chapter, and we've finally gotten to one of the parts that first turned me to thinking of this story! hopefully you all like it as much as I did when I wrote it. as always, REVIEW!**

**Chapter Five**

**Sweet Music's Throne**

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Draco had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like 'breathing loudly' and 'looking happy.'

But Filch wasn't the only person on everyone's mind. Harry Potter had barely been seen since the attack, only showing for classes, then vanishing immediately afterward again. Draco was surprised that most of the students hadn't noticed prior to now, but then again, most students weren't as observant as he was. The entire school seemed to be in agreement that Potter had attacked the mangy cat, and his secrecy about it seemed to be enough to confirm everyone's fears.

It was strange then, that in the middle of their Charms lesson, that the Mudblood Granger, ever the teacher's pet and all around know-it-all, asked the burning question that no one else dared to ask.

"Yes Miss Granger," tiny Professor Flitwick asked, puzzled that his prized student didn't understand something.

"I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," she replied with a slightly shaky voice.

Flitwick looked like he was about to fall off his desk, so shocked he was about the question. Everyone in the room was focused intently on him, waiting on baited breath for any scrap of information.

"Well," the diminutive teacher squeaked, suddenly nervous, "I suppose I could give you some knowledge about it, just to put your minds at ease, but remember that it is a legend, and probably only has a fractional base in fact…"

Drawing a deep breath, the Charms Master began the tale.

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago — the precise date is uncertain… by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused, gazed quickly around the room, and continued.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more _selective _about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

He paused again, seeming to steel himself to tell some sort of dirty secret.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing."

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

There was silence as he finished telling the story, every so often eyes darting back to look at Potter, who looked bored and slightly irritated.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," Flitwick said, waving his hands dismissively. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

"But Sir," Granger interjected, "What exactly do you mean by the 'horror within the Chamber?'"

Flitwick swallowed again, "it is believed to so, some sort of monster, that the Heir alone can control."

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Under the light of the moon shining through the second floor windows, Hermione crept along silently towards Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom. She _knew_ Harry was innocent, and was going to find the proof, even if it meant breaking the rules of curfew.

Reaching the scene of the crime, she started to search around, first the door to the toilet, then the immediate area around the candle bracket. An irritated sort of cough startled her and she whipped around, glaring at Ron Weasley.

"What are you doing down here?" She whispered angrily, looking away and finding two burn marks on the carpet. Eyes widening, she barely heard the annoying red head's response.

"I could ask you the same thing, Granger. Who do you think you are, skulking around at night?"

She ignored him, studying the burn marks. If she remembered correctly, there was water here the night Mrs. Norris was found. But that was odd. Unfortunately, her thoughts were interrupted by Weasley seizing her arm and starting to pull her back to Gryffindor Tower, "Common, you're not wasting your time for that slimy git."

Wrenching her arm back, she slapped him, again, and fled into the one place she knew he wouldn't go, Myrtle's bathroom. Closing the door behind her she started to cry. Why was it so hard for her to just do the right thing? Why did the arrogant pig headed boy even care?

So caught up in her sobs, Hermione was caught off guard when the voice started, echoing around the bathroom.

"_Insolent boy! This slave of fashion, basking in your glory!_"

Hermione's breath caught, it was the voice of her Angel, come to help her._  
_

"_Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!_"

Standing carefully, and looking around, Hermione opened herself to her gift, sing in a soft voice to her Angel.

"_Angel, I hear you. Speak, I'll listen… Stay by my side, guide me_!"

Hermione didn't know what else to do, and she was ashamed that she didn't seek his advice at the start.

"_Angel my soul was weak, forgive me… Enter at last, Master_!"

The response came, and Hermione's heart was filled to overflowing at the message.

"_Flattering child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror… I am there inside_!"

Turning immediately, she saw, with a gasp, the face of a boy, nearly her age, Green eyes glinting in the darkness, and a pale white mask covered the right side of his face, the black robes around him added to the aura of mystery.

Crying again, for joy at meeting her Angel at last, Hermione sang out, "_Angel of Music, Guide and guardian, grant to me your glory_! _Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange Angel_…"

She fell into a trance as her Angel sang, his sweet voice carried throughout the room, "_I am your Angel of Music… Come to me, Angel of Music…_"

There was banging on the door behind her, but Hermione could not hear the voice of Ron Weasley, whispering intently, "Who' that voice? Who is that in there?"

Her Angel continued to sing, waving a hand as the entire mirror and sink began to move, sinking into the metal grate below. "_I am your Angel of Music…_" he offered his hand to her, and Hermione hesitated a moment.

"Hermione!" Ron said, louder this time, and the door banged again.

Looking at the door, then quickly back to her, her dear Angel persisted, "_Come to me, Angel of Music…_"

Hermione took his hand, disappearing behind the sink as they rose back into place, following down the spiral stone staircase. Wandlight flared, and together, Hermione and her Angel departed into the depths of the school.

Somewhere in her foggy mind, Hermione understood something at last, and gave voice to it, finding she could not speak, only sing in the presence of her Angel, "_In sleep he sang to me…  
In dreams he came…_"

Her Angel looked at her, eyes sparkling at her voice, before returning to watching the path ahead. "_That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name. And do I dream again for now I find The Phantom of Howarts is there, inside my mind…_"

She stopped, suddenly in control of herself again. She looked back, thinking how she shouldn't be here, but back in Gryffindor Tower. The Phantom took her hand again, just a tiny bit forcefully, and sang to her, returning her to her peaceful trance.

"_Sing once again with me, our strange duet…_" the voice was so chilling, yet so wonderful. Hermione could not help but fall back into step behind him.

"_My power over you, grows stronger yet…_" she glanced again, back up the stairs to the entrance, but a tug from the Phantom return her attention to the crystal green eyes.

"_And though you turn from me, to glance behind… the Phantom of Hogwarts is there, inside your mind!_"

They reached the bottom, arriving in a large stone cavern, and just ahead was a door, covering in stone snakes. Normally Hermione may have been frightened, but with her Angel she was unafraid of anything. With a whispered word and a wave of his hand, the Phantom opened the door, and a massive underground lake opened up before them. A small two person gondola awaited them, and her Angel helped her inside, before shunting them off with a long pole.

"_Those who have seen your face, draw back in fear,_" Hermione sang, and the Phantom grew quiet, touching his mask with a look of pain. Hermione was saddened by the gesture, and quickly moved on, "_I am the mask you wear…_" but her Angel interrupted her, "_It's me they hear_!"

"_Your/My spirit and my/your voice, in one combined_," they sang, their voices meshing and reverberating around the cavern as they slid across the water. "_the Phantom of Hogwarts is there, inside my/your mind_!"

Hermione thought she heard other voices, conjured from the deep caverns around them, singing warnings, or announcements, she could not tell. "_He's there, the Phantom of Hogwarts… Beware the Phantom of Hogwarts…_"

They arrived at a giant statue of a man, the nose looming far above them, and the Phantom waved a hand, causing the enormous mouth to open, granting them passage within. Candles glowed all around them, supported on giant candlesticks rising from the water.

"_In all your fantasies, you always knew…_" her Angel sang, as they pulled toward a dock before a large jutting rock face, filled with furniture and many more candles, "_That man and mystery…_"

Hermione interrupted, knowing the truth of the words, "_were both in you…_"

They sang together again, just as the pulled in, and the Angel of Music help her from the gondola, "_And in this labyrinth, where night is blind… the Phantom of Hogwarts is there... inside your/my mind_!"

Steeping back, and removing both hat and cloak, revealing the slick backed black hair and stylized tunic and slacks, the Phantom gestured at Hermione, "_Sing for me. Sing my Angel of Music_!"

Hermione's mind released, and she knew this was no longer a dream, "_He's there, the Phantom of Hogwarts…_"

"_Sing_!" he demanded, and Hermione obliged, going to the highest point of her range for him, singing like she had never sang before.

The Phantom pushed her, urging her further and further, and she felt the magic all around them, "_Sing, my Angel of Music. Sing for ME_!"

Shattering all her preconceived notions, Hermione sang, surpassing any point she had ever reached before. She stopped, holding her chest. Her heart was racing. Turning back to the Angel, she saw him at a massive pipe organ, playing a complicated and haunting melody. "_I have brought you, to the seat of sweet Music's throne. To this kingdom where all must pay homage to Music… music… You have come here, for one purpose and one alone! Since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me to serve me to sing, for my Music… my music…_"

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Phantom could not remember the last time he was so happy. She was here, in his domain, his sweet Hermione, the Angel of his life. He must explain everything to her, but there was little time. opening himself to the fullness of Music's power, he sang sweet melodies of the Music of the Night to her.

"_Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses, helpless to resist the notes I write; for I compose the Music of the Night._"

She hung on his every word, feeling the power of sweet Music. The Phantom hoped with all his heart that she would understand his need for her, for what she represented to him. Freedom…"_Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light. And listen to the music of the night…_"

Extending his arms to her, the Phantom urged her to listen deeply, with not only her ears, but her heart, to the pleading tones of his voice."_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams; purge your thoughts of the life you knew before. Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar! And you'll live as you've never lived before…_"

Crossing over to her, the Phantom took her hands, guiding her around his realm, past the many tables piled with books and parchment, where he composed and designed, around his mighty organ he built on his own, and toward his greatest project."_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it secretly posses you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind in this darkness that you know you cannot find…The darkness of the music of the night…_"_  
_

Stopping, his ran a hand over her eyes, trying to convey the implications of her choice to follow him, to learn at the feet of the Master of Music. There was no turning back after this, she had decided.

"_Let your mind start to journey through a strange new world! Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before! Let your soul take you where you long to be! Only then can you belong to me…_"_  
_

Taking her hand again, the Phantom guided her to the curtained partition for her room he had prepared, been preparing ever since he had met her, and the made up doll, a perfect replica of his sweet Hermione, dressed in a shimmering white wedding gown.

"_Floating, folding, sweet intoxication… Touch me, trust me savor each sensation…  
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in! To the power of the music that I write… The power of the music of the night…_"_  
_

The manikin started to dance, help by pure magic, but it was too much for poor Hermione. She must have been exhausted, because she fainted. The Phantom only barely caught her, holding her gently as be placed her on her bed, and tucked a loose strand of the curly hair behind her ear, just the way he loved so much.

"_You alone can make my song take flight… Help me make the music of the night…_"

And he left her there, to rest from the nights activities. He had letters to draft to the staff and students of his castle.


	7. Chapter 6

**Hurray, one more Chapter before I leave for 15 months. i am really pleased with the turnout for this story, please keep up the reviews and please, don't hesitate to keep in contact over the time I'm gone, I will still be in touch, merely unable to post new chapters.**

**Chapter Six**

**The Man behind the Mask**

Hermione was roused from her sleep by gentle chiming. Blearily she looked around, not recognizing where she was at first, before remembering. Her Angel, the Phantom of Hogwarts, had taken her down into his kingdom of Music. Rising from the beautifully created four-poster bed, complete with black and gold patterned linens, Hermione quickly found the source of the noise. A handcrafted music box rested on a side table, adorned with a curiously dressed wizard-monkey, complete with a tiny wand. The curious part was the tiny stone set in the monkey's black pointed hat, carved with an intricate symbol. A bisected triangle with a circle set within it.

Hermione was about to ponder what the symbol might have meant, but suddenly music started to play, hauntingly beautiful and echoing from somewhere outside the room she had awoken in. passing another table, Hermione noted only that it seemed to be covered in rubbish. A shattered tiara, cracked ring that was missing its jewel, a smashed locket with a strangely curved 'S', and a split cup with badgers for handles. Hermione only paid them a parting glance before being lured along the passageway toward the source of the music.

All along the way, on either side of the passageway, eerily strange works of art lined the walls. Painting, sculptures, magical devices, and a plethora of other magnificent objects littered the way as Hermione proceeded onward, and she couldn't help pausing once or twice to look at this or that. "_It's all so beautiful…_" she sang to herself. "_So strange, yet beautiful…_"

Continuing along, Hermione finally came to a sort-of window, looking out to a wider cavern beyond a wide lake.

"_I remember there was mist; swirling mist upon a vast, glassy lake_," she sang, bypassing the window and coming across a dock, surrounded by large candelabra. "_There were candles all around, and on the lake there was a boat…_" she continued.

Finally, Hermione found him. Her Angel was there, playing his large pipe organ with a fervor that Hermione didn't know that even she possessed. "_…and in the boat there was a man._"

Intently curious, she crept forward now, wondering who it could be. Who was the Phantom of Hogwarts; who was it that had taken her on, mentored her, and finally brought her down here to his secret home. "_Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is the face in the mask?_" ever closer she got, one hand reaching for the pure white mask that hid the identity of the mysterious man she had grown to love.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The Phantom was working furiously, striving to finish this particularly difficult passage in his newest piece, Don Juan Triumphant. He had been working through the night and into the morning, inspired by the mere presence of his Angel of Music, his student and his freedom. She had awaken, he had heard her through the passageway, singing as she admired his work.

"_She thinks it's beautiful… My world is beautiful…_" he sang softly after her, watching her from the corner of his eye as she came into view. "_She is too beautiful_…" he added sadly. The Phantom knew he could not keep her with him as he'd like. Inevitably, the fool of a Headmaster would go poking about to find her if she went missing, but first he desperately wanting to finish this melody while she was her to give his song new life.

So consumed was he that he didn't see as his Angel crept up to him and pulled his mask from his face.

Screaming in fury, the Phantom spun away, but the damage was done. She had seen his face. His horrid face, scarred and deformed. "_Damn you! You little prying Pandora!_" he roared at her, hurt and angry and fearful all at once, "_You little demon, Is this what you wanted to see?_" he added, pondering showing her a good look, allowing her to see the hideousness in its full horror.

Storming away several feet, he slumped slightly, one hand pressed hard against his ragged flesh, "_Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper…_" agonizing inside, he realized that now she knew too much. "_Now you cannot ever be free!_" He had never wanted this to happen. He was planning on releasing her to the school today, but now…"_Damn you... Curse you..._"_  
_

Turning to her, still shrouding his horrid visage from her, the Phantom regarded her fearful face. Surprisingly, she had not fallen back, but just stood there, holding his mask and looking uneasy at his reaction. "_Stranger than you dreamt it…_" he half sang, half sneered at her, advancing slightly. She backed away a few steps, but did not flee. "_Can you even dare to look, or bare to think of me: this loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven, secretly... secretly... Hermione..._"

Falling to his knees at last, the Phantom resigned himself to the awful truth. Hermione would never love him now that she knew. It was the same as any he had come close to, with the exception of one other. They all feared and hated him for what he was. So wrapped up in his self loathing, the Phantom was startled when Hermione placed a hand on his arm, pulling it away from his face. 'No' he inwardly moaned, not wanting her to look again. But what she said next shattered any thoughts he had.

"_This haunted face, holds no horror for me…_" she sang gentle to him, looking at him with an expression that the Phantom had never seen before. 'Is this pity?' he thought, tears threatening to flow. They did, in fact, when his beloved Hermione continued, "_I think you're beautiful…_"

"_You think I'm beautiful…?_" the Phantom replied, so utterly caught off guard that he had frozen in place on the floor, unable to think clearly.

"_Pitiful creature of Darkness…_" she sang to him, sounding like the mother he never knew, "_What kind of life have you known…? Come let me show you… you are not alone!_" and suddenly she embraced him, the strange gesture just added to the bafflement that the Phantom felt. It spat in the face of everything he had known for so long. She did not care that he was hideous. She stepped back, looking at him with a small sad smile. "_What you create is beautiful… that makes you beautiful…_"

"_You are so beautiful…_" the Phantom replied, weakly rising to his feet. Smiling wider, Hermione took his hand and responded, "_You too are beautiful, so very beautiful_…"

They stood there for several long moments, staring at each other with newfound wonder. Finally, the Phantom regained his composure. "Come we must return," he said, taking the mask from her hand and replacing it gently, "That old fool who runs my school will be missing you…" and ever so gently, he led her back to his gondola, fully intent on returning her to the school many miles above. '_She thinks I'm beautiful…_'

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Albus sat worriedly in his study, pondering over the recent letter he had been sent from the Phantom. Worse still was the report that Miss Granger had been missing the entire night from her dormitory. The letter had ominously hinted at what Albus had suspected had happened.

'_Dear Headmaster_

_You may be confused and worried concerning this little issue about the chamber of Secrets. I have nothing to do with this development, and am just as concerned about it as you must be in your position. Do not fear for Miss Granger, for she is far safer than you could keep her, make no attempts to find her, they will not end the way you desire. Regarding this _'_Heir of Slytherin_'_ I will look into the matter personally. Make no mistake Albus, I do not wish your assitance in this matter, as I will do _whatever_ necessary to defend _my_ school from harm._

_PoH_'

It was humiliating, that someone would have the gall to send such a threatening letter to the most powerful wizard in Britain, making demands and threats if they were not met. What was worse was that Albus was completely helpless before this 'Phantom'. Having no knowledge about the figure or where he operated, Albus was completely out of his element.

Just then Professor McGonagall strode in, herding an angry Ronald Weasley before her. "Where is she?" the red headed boy asked rudely, and even Albus was at a loss as to what they boy meant.

"Who do you mean Mr. Weasley?" he asked tentatively, trying to quell the boy's anger, but failing.

"Hermione, where is she? Isn't this the letter you wrote?" he thrust out a very similar letter to Albus' own.

"What letter?" Albus asked, taking the note from the boy and reading it quickly.

'_Do not fear for Miss Granger, the Angel of Music has her under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again._'

"We did not write this Mr. Weasley…" Albus said at last.

"Well," the boy said angrily, "If not you, then who did?"

Albus simply shook his head in befuddlement. It was clearly the Phantom's handwriting, but again, the why escaped the elderly wizard.

It was then that Severus entered, face neutral and carrying another note. Albus grimaced. "Miss Granger had returned…" Severus said simply.

"And, where exactly is she now?" Albus asked, calmly overriding both Professor McGonagall and Mr. Weasley.

"I felt it best if she was alone, so I sent her to Gryffindor Tower." Severus replied.

"May I see her, Sir?" Ronald asked, but Severus ignored him, handing the letter to Albus, "I have a note…"

Albus opened this third missive, dreading what the Phantom wanted now.

'_Sir_

_I have now sent out several notes of the most amiable nature detailing what I desire for my school. You have not followed my instructions in the least. However, I shall give you one last chance. Hermione Granger had returned to you, as an act of good faith. You shall remove the bumbling fool of a Defense teacher immediately, and find someone more suitable for the position, fail to do this again, and a disaster beyond your imagination will occur._

_I remain, Sir, your obedient servant,_

_PoH_'

Albus was silent as he sent the two Professors and one student back to their duties and studies. He then sighed heavily and placed his head in his hands.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Draco had a theory now. Potter's constant disappearances, the attack on Ms. Norris, the ragged appearance of the Headmaster and staff concerning the matter, all led up to one conclusion in his mind. Harry Potter was the Heir of Slytherin. The question remained, however, of why the boy wasn't confiding in his fellow Slytherins? Surely they would assist the cleansing of the school of all the filthy Mudbloods, yet the antisocial boy was still doggedly avoiding any of the other students except Granger outside of classes…

Granger, that sickening Mudblood that Potter had affixed himself with since the beginning of last year, and a Gryffindor as well. It drove Draco mental. It was the only thing that didn't add up with the 'Potter is the Heir of Slytherin' concept. If so, then why would he be hanging out with the horrid know-it-all? Unless… well, there was that one possibility, Draco mused. If Potter was getting close to the Mudbloods so that they would suspect him less, then it would make sense. It was a bit hazy, but it worked for Draco.

Still, he would be watching and waiting, prepared to offer his assistance if the Heir turned to him for it. Currently thought he had a Quidditch match to watch, envying the students that were allowed to play for the Slytherin team. How badly he would want to be on the team.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Tom Riddle was growing restless. The first attack from the Basilisk had driven the school into terror, even if the mangy cat didn't die. He was more than eager, therefore, to release it again and strike at a person, a Mudblood, and hope for the kill this time. The foolish girl still trusted him, and was easy prey for him to take control of again, having her sneak down to the Chamber and release the giant serpent.

As he was about to leave the Chamber however, Tom Riddle heard the strangest thing. Another voice radiated around in the Chamber, singing loud and strongly. But that wasn't possible, there hadn't been another Parselmouth in hundreds of years… Unfortunately, just as he was about to investigate, Tom felt his control starting to slip from the girl, and was forced to retreat away from the entrance of Slytherin's Chamber before the foolish Gryffindor regain command of herself.


End file.
